


Charred Wood and Green Grass

by cuteashale



Series: Beds Are So Mainstream [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Car Sex sort of, Fluff, Forest Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteashale/pseuds/cuteashale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has never really considered the forest to be sexy. Sure, Derek kind of smells like pine needles but there are sticks on the ground and those little shits hurt when your bare ass lands on one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charred Wood and Green Grass

**Author's Note:**

> The second installment of Beds Are So Mainstream! This was meant to be short, silly, and smutty like the last one but feelings accidentally crept in. I hope you enjoy!

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

Derek shrugs, shoves his hands into his jeans pockets, directs his eyes down to the forest floor. “Laura and I used to talk about it. What it might be like to come home and rebuild.” He shrugs again and his voice is softer when he says, “She wanted to start a family. Make a pack again.”

Stiles moves closer to Derek, gently easing his hand out of his pocket and threading their fingers together. “You have a pack again, Derek,” he says quietly, thumbing over the back of Derek’s hand.

“I know.” Derek lifts his eyes to look at the burnt shell of his family home and smiles a little sadly. “I want a home.”

Stiles knows what he isn’t saying. He isn’t saying that the loft is just a space. A space where he sleeps and eats and stays. He’s not living there, not really. It’s a house but it’s not his home. And Stiles gets it. He gets that after the years they’ve had, the shit they’ve been through and are _still_ sometimes going through, Derek wants a place to call home. He deserves that.

“You know,” Stiles drawls after several long minutes of silence. “If we lived out here, I could be as loud as I want and no one would complain.”

Derek snorts and tilts his head to look over at Stiles. “You say that like anyone has _ever_ stopped you from being loud.”

“Well, there was that one time where my da-“

“Don’t. I never want to think of that day, ever.”

Stiles cackles and lets Derek reel him in for a hug and a kiss that’s so sweet he momentarily forgets everything but the feel of Derek’s lips on his. 

“Wow,” he breathes when they part for air. His hands are pushed up through Derek’s hair and Derek’s and spread on his back, tucking him in close to his body.

A slow smile spreads across Derek’s face. “You said we.” At Stiles’ confused look, he elaborates, “You said if _we_ lived out here. Together. The two of us.”

“Generally that’s what ‘we’ means…” Stiles grins and kisses the annoyed frown off of Derek’s lips. “Well, yeah, dude, what did you think? I’d help you rebuild the place and then just ditch you so you could live here all alone? Don’t even answer that. I’m not going anywhere. You’re totally stuck with me, probably for forever and then some.”

Derek gets this goofy sort of smile on his face and Stiles smacks out a hand to cover him up and hide his face from view. “God, don’t get all gooey on me. If you start, I’m gonna start, and probably we’ll both cry a little bit.” 

Derek huffs a little laugh and Stiles kisses him again, pulling at him until they’re leaned up against the Jeep, the metal cool on his back. “You know what we should do?” The sudden heat in Derek’s eyes tells Stiles that, yes, Derek does know what they should do and he’s completely on board with some celebratory sex.

Stiles’ smile turns wicked and he hops up onto the hood of his Jeep, long legs winding around Derek’s waist to tug him in closer for a kiss. Derek enthusiastically responds, mouth opening under Stiles’ when he swipes his tongue over Derek’s bottom lip. They kiss until Stiles’ lips are tingling and Derek’s hips are grinding slowly into his, the hardness of his cock answered by Stiles’ own quickly stirring dick.

“There’s lube in the glove compartment,” Stiles mumbles against Derek’s mouth, torn between sucking at Derek’s lower lip and getting out words to they can start this party.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised,” is Derek’s muttered reply, and Stiles whines when he leaves him, grabby hands groping for Derek’s t-shirt to pull him back. He doesn’t come back but he does throw a smile over his shoulder that has Stiles’ heart doing a samba in his chest. He grins when Derek does return, small bottle of lube in his hands that he passes to Stiles so he can work him out of his jeans and shoes. They land in a heap against the grass and Stiles shivers a little, cool autumn air touching places that were previously warm and cozy in his pants.

Derek kisses his knee in apology and Stiles isn’t sure how he got on his back on the hood of his car but he’s not complaining. He hisses when Derek pulls his boxer-briefs off, hands flailing a little because it’s _cold_ on the heat of his cock and that’s not pleasant at all. Derek’s mouth is very pleasant, though, and the warmth of it very quickly surrounds his cock and sucks it down. 

“ _Shiiit_.” His hands fall to Derek’s hair and he grabs at it, careful not to yank too hard because he did that once and Derek’s teeth scraped against some very sensitive skin and – yeah. He’s careful now.

Derek just hums a little and bobs almost lazily over him. The asshole is still completely dressed, leather jacket still on, and Stiles is pants less. He squirms his way out of his hoodie and leaves it spread out under him so his back doesn’t touch the car that’s rapidly cooling under the setting sun when he shucks his shirt off. He’ll complain about the cold later but right now Derek’s mouth is too hot and his fingers – that have since wet themselves with lube – are pushing up between his cheeks and against his hole.

He gasps under Derek when one finger slides inside him and it feels like seconds of wordless panting and writhing around later that one finger turns into two.

“Derek. Derek, God, yeah – r-right there, uh.” Stiles sees bursts of light behind his tightly closed eyes when Derek couples a sharp crook of his fingers with a particularly firm suck and he shakes under him, thighs spreading wider as two fingers turn into three.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he curses, hips now bucking up into Derek’s mouth and down into the pressure of his fingers. “God, Derek, c’mon, m’good.” His words are slurring and he knows if Derek doesn’t start fucking him _now_ this is all going to be over in a matter of seconds.

Thankfully, Derek knows him more than well enough to stop. He pulls away from him completely and fumbles with his zipper, forcing a little laugh out of Stiles when he manages to get lube on his jeans instead of unbuttoning them. “Need some help there?” he laughs.

Derek finally wiggles his jeans down his hips and gets a hand on his cock, breathing out a groan as he strokes himself a few times, slicking himself with the remainder of the lube on his hand. “Got it,” he breathes, meeting Stiles’ dark eyes with a smile.

Stiles makes grabby hands at him and Derek drops his jacket off his shoulders as he comes closer, bowing his head to kiss Stiles. “Mmm.” He nips at Derek’s lip and runs his fingers over his chest, pushing his t-shirt up but not making any move to take it off. That’ll take too long and he needed Derek’s dick in him yesterday.

He must accidentally say that part out loud because Derek laughs against his chin and props himself up on an elbow, free hand moving between them to position his cock at Stiles’ asshole and push inside.

They both sigh almost identical moans and Derek grins against Stiles’ cheek, kissing over the mole by his mouth as he slowly pushes forward until they’re completely flush together, hips to ass.

Stiles is tense for a moment or two and then he exhales heavily against Derek’s eyebrow and all bets are off. They’re both moaning, caught little noises that burst out of their throats and mingle together in the air they’re sharing, and Stiles’ hands are everywhere, moving over Derek almost faster than Derek can register feeling them. Derek has both hands on either side of his face and Stiles feels completely surrounded by him, entire body bracketed in by Derek’s. 

His eyes are heavy lidded but locked on Derek’s face, watching a flush build on his cheeks as his thrusts speed up and his eyes start to ease closed. It feels good, it _always_ feels good, but it’s not quite enough and Stiles is never shy about letting Derek know exactly where he needs him. “Up. Derek, babe, move, I need-“

Derek sits up a little, lip caught between his teeth as he forces his hips to stop moving. He pulls out and Stiles grumbles, reaching out to use Derek’s hands to pull himself to his feet and flop back in the grass. It’s overgrown and a little bit prickly but he really doesn’t care. Both hands hook under his knees and he pulls up - higher than he needs to just so he can see Derek’s eyes go dark and his cock jump against his shirt.

“Fucker,” Derek says without any heat. Stiles beams and wiggles around, grimacing when a stick pokes him in the ass.

“You love me. Now c’mere, we’re not finished yet.” Derek smiles and pushes easily back into Stiles, breathing a sigh once he’s buried to the hilt again. It’s a little harder for him to get leverage like this, with his pants still on and his knees and elbows bracing him, but Stiles is making these sweet little noises against his ear and he’d contort himself however necessary to keep those going loud and strong. 

Stiles’ sounds get increasingly more desperate as Derek’s thrusts get harder and deeper, every moan louder than the last. His hand drops from where it has been fisted in Derek’s hair and he curls his fingers around his cock, tugging in sharp little jerks right at the head.

He doesn’t have any idea what he’s saying to Derek but whatever it is must be filthy because Derek lets out a groan like he’s dying and stills, hips pressed flush to Stiles’ ass, his zipper digging into his flesh.

“Oh, fuck me, _yeah_ ,” Stiles groans, arching up off the forest floor as his own orgasm hits and he spills all over his stomach and down his fingers.

It’s an indeterminable amount of time later when he can breathe again and he becomes very aware of the fact that Derek is squashing him into several rocks and what might possibly be a bug or three. He’s not going to think too closely on that. What he does instead is kick at Derek’s ass until he grunts and rolls over, pulling Stiles along with him. 

Laughing softly, he presses kisses to Derek’s stubbled cheeks and snuggles close, letting Derek’s arms blanket him and protect him from the chill of the air around them.  
“I was right you know,” he says quietly after several long minutes of steadily slowing breaths.

“Hmm?” Derek’s voice is sleepy-soft and lazy and Stiles grins into his throat.

“I can be as loud as I want out here and no one can hear me.”

Derek snorts and tightens his hold on Stiles, smiling into his sweaty hair. “You were right.”

"Ah, I love the sound of agreement in the morning."

Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles doesn't have to be looking at him to know it. "It's evening, Stiles."

"I don't care. That doesn't sound as good." Stiles taps his fingers lightly against Derek's shoulder, thumb worrying the edge of his sleeve. "Rethinking building a home with me?" he asks softly.

"Never," Derek replies just as softly, voice deadly serious. "You are my home."

**Author's Note:**

> I need three more scenarios for sex that is not on a bed. Leave suggestions in the comments? Maybe I'll write one! Thanks so much for reading, you guys.


End file.
